


The Davenport Twins

by Ot3srock



Series: The Davenport Twins [2]
Category: Lab Rats (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Original fics, Spike and Chase are twins, protective Spike, some requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:42:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ot3srock/pseuds/Ot3srock
Summary: The first original idea of my Lab Rats fanfiction! Enjoy!





	1. Introduction

"Spike, get off me!"

It was the first thing that Donald Davenport heard on that Saturday morning. He knew instantly that his twin boys were awake. Couldn't he get one morning of peace? Just one?

"Eat shit, nerd!" was what Donald heard next. Great. Now he  _had_  to intervene. The billionaire tech genius hurried to put on a shirt and get downstairs before either of the two boys broke something. What he saw was shocking, though it really shouldn't have been. The normally picture-perfect living room was turned sideways, literally, and on the back of the couch; now on the ground, were two boys struggling against one another. Spike, Donald's youngest and most aggressive child, was pinning his brother face down on, no in, the cushions. Chase, Donald's other youngest and easily the smartest, was struggling against his brother's hold, trying to lift his head up so he could at least get a decent breath.

"Spike Elliot Davenport! Get off your brother right now!" Donald scolded, causing Spike to look at him, distracted enough to let Chase flip the stronger boy off him. Chase then rolled off the couch, standing up, brushing himself off, and taking a few deep breaths.

"Thanks, Mr. Davenport," the boy gasped out gratefully, taking a hit from his inhaler to help even out his breath.

"You're welcome, Chase. Now would either of you like to tell me what the hell happened in here?" Donald demanded. Chase gulped, scratching at the back of his neck nervously as he averted his eyes from his father's stare.

"Well, um, you see, we, er..." Chase stuttered out.

"Oh for Pete's sake!" Spike growled out, standing up from behind the couch. "The problem is that Chase picks shitty shows!"

"Spike, watch your language," Donald warned.

"I do not pick crappy shows!" Chase protested, turning to his twin. "They are highly intellectually stimulating documentaries!"

"Fucking nerd!" Spike coughed, not even trying to be subtle.

"Spencer Elliot! Knock it off! Donald scolded.

”Mr. Davenport,” Chase started timidly, always one to hate getting in trouble. “I think our real problem is that we can’t decide what to watch together.” He shifted back and forth on his heels awkwardly as he fiddled with his inhaler.

”The nerd’s right,” Spike agreed. “We can’t agree on anything ever. It’s getting super annoying.” Chase nodded in verification of his twin.

”What about that New York baking show?” Donald asked.

”We finished it,” Spike answered. Their father sighed deeply, looking into each boy’s hazel eyes.

”Well, you won’t have to worry about television for a while. You’re both grounded for a week,” the genius decided. Both boys groaned but complied nonetheless, trudging up to their room.

”Yes, sir,” they mumbled.

”Hey, Spike!” Donald called. Spike turned. “Your doctor called earlier and said you’re due for another injection soon. Do you need any help?” Spike visibly paled, but shook his head.

”I think... I think I can do it by myself,” he replied.

”Alright,” Donald answered, shaking his head before turning to fix the living room. There was a sudden rush of air and a voice spoke behind him.

”Good morning, Mr. Davenport!” the voice called. Donald looked over and saw his middle child, and only girl, Bree, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

”Good morning, Bree,” Donald greeted.

”What happened here?” the girl asked, walking closer.

”Your brothers.” As if on cue, a yelling was heard from upstairs.

”Spike, stop; I can’t breathe!” Chase screamed. Donald sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked upstairs to make sure his twins didn’t kill each other. Again. The billionaire tech mogul walked up the stairs and stopped by Spike and Chase’s door, looking in the hole in the wall caused by yet another incident last week. Instead of the usual fighting Donald expected to see, Spike was on the floor, cradling Chase in his arms and coaching him through breathing techniques.

”That’s it, Chase. In and out. Just like Doctor Martin said. That’s it. Just take a few deep breaths. Just like that. In and out,” Spike whispered. Chase followed his twin’s instructions and soon he was breathing normally.

”Thanks, Spike,” Chase whispered back, crawling out of his brother’s lap tentatively.

”If anyone asks,” Spike started.

”This never happened,” Chase agreed, picking up his book and climbing back into his bed to read.

”What are you reading?” Spike asked, looking over his twin’s shoulder.

”It’s called _Going Bovine_ by Libba Bray. Wanna read it with me?” Chase offered.

”Sure, I guess.” Spike acted uninterested, but when Chase moved over, he scrambled to sit next to his twin. They took turns reading chapters aloud and Donald smiled, happy the two were finally bonding over something. Donald walked back downstairs to find Bree cooking breakfast and his oldest, Adam, watching one of his early morning cartoons on the now righted couch. Donald smiled, watching Adam laugh at the animated ducks on the screen.

”You can’t beat a giant robot, Dewey,” he laughed. Donald sat down and watched the cartoon, relishing in the simplicity of it. Meanwhile, back in their room, Chase looked at Spike.

”Think we should tell Mr. Davenport we heard him?” he asked.

”Nah,” Spike answered, shaking his head. “Let him think he’s being stealthy.”

”Alright.” They went back to reading.


	2. Sickness(Request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase gets sick, requested by @Bubbly980

“Adam, Bree, Chase, Spike, Leo! Hurry up!” Donald called. Three out of five of his children came rushing to the kitchen.

“What’s for breakfast, Big D?” Leo asked as he sat at the counter.

“Your mom made pancakes before she left,” Donald answered. “Where are Chase and Spike?” As if summoned by their names, the elevator opened and the twins walked out, arguing the whole time.

“Let me feel!” Spike commanded.

“No!” Chase denied.

“Let me feel!”

“No!”

“Let me feel!”

“No!”

“Let me feel!”

“No!”

“Let me feel!”

“No!”

“Boys! What are you arguing about?” Donald demanded.

“Chase is sick but he won’t let me take his temperature,” Spike explained. Chase rolled his eyes, sitting down at the counter next to Leo.

“I’m not sick,” Chase countered.

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Knock it off!” Donald yelled over the fighting. “I’ll grab the thermometer and you guys hurry up and eat.” He rushed off to grab his thermometer and Chase pushed his pancakes away.

“Aren’t you eating?” Leo asked through a mouthful of pancake. Chase shook his head.

“Not hungry,” he answered.

“Can I have them?”

“Knock yourself out.” Chase pushed the plate toward his step-brother and Leo devoured the food given to him. Donald walked in with his electronic thermometer.

“Open,” he instructed. Chase complied, letting his father place the machine under his tongue. When it beeped, Donald took the thermometer out of Chase’s mouth and examined it. He frowned.

“What’s wrong, Big D?” Leo asked.

“It says 72.8 degrees,” the scientist mumbled.

“Must be broken,” Chase replied. “Welp, we’d better head out. We don’t wanna be late for school!” He stood up, ignoring the dizzy spell he felt when he did, and headed toward the door. Spike caught his arm and let his siblings pass.

“Știu ce faci. Le poți păcăli, dar nu mă poți păcăli,” he whispered menacingly.  _ I know what you’re doing. You can fool them, but you can’t fool me. _

“Nu știu despre ce vorbești,” Chase replied.  _ I don’t know what you’re talking about. _

“Știu că ai spart termometrul. Nu există nici o cale în iad că temperatura ta este de 72.8,” Spike hissed.  _ I know you hacked the thermometer. There’s no way in hell your temperature is 72.8. _

“Ți-am spus că trebuie să fie spart.”  _ I told you it must be broken. _

“Rahat. Ai folosit abilitatea ta de hacking pentru a schimba numărul.”  _ Bullshit. You used your hacking ability to change the number. _

“N-am făcut-o! Nu aveți nici o dovadă!” Chase protested.  _ I did not! You have no proof! _

“Mincinos!” Spike yelled.  _ Liar! _

“Spike, Chase, hurry up! You’re gonna make us late!” Leo called from the door. “The less I have to see Perry, the better!”

“Coming!” Spike called before turning to his twin. “This isn’t over.” Chase just rolled his eyes and followed his brother out the door and into the car.

***

“Mr. Davenport. Are you so intellectually superior to this lesson that you can’t even keep your eyes open and your head up?” the teacher snapped. Chase rubbed his face. He could have sworn he hadn’t fallen asleep, just rested his eyes for a moment.

“Sorry, Mr. Paterson,” he groaned.

“Don’t let it happen again or it’ll be detention.”

“Yes, sir.” Chase tried to focus on the lesson, but the more he stared at the board, the blurrier the words became. Chase started to feel nauseous looking at the twisting and turning letters and then it was as if his brain had shut off and his stomach was doing all the thinking. He rushed out, ignoring the threats of a week’s worth of detention and ran to the closest bathroom he could, very nearly missing the toilet with his sudden vomit. He closed and locked the stall door with his molecular kinesis, only resulting in making himself even more sick. Chase vomited again and groaned, resting his head on the cool  porcelain of the toilet seat.

***

Spike was lifting weights with Adam in gym class when he felt a sudden wave of nausea hit him like a brick wall. He set down the bar he was pressing and looked over at Adam.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, concerned.

“I feel sick,” Spike answered, ignoring the annoyance at being worried about. “But it’s not like  _ I  _ feel sick, it’s more like I feel sick through  _ someone else _ .” Suddenly his face paled tremendously and Adam put a hand on his shoulder.

“What is it?” the older boy asked.

“I know who it is,” Spike mumbled before grabbing Adam by the hand and dragging him out of the gym; giving a lackluster excuse and continuing to sprint down the hallway until he got to his destination.

“Why are we at the boys’ bathroom?” Adam asked. Spike shushed him and slowly pushed open the bathroom door.

“Chase?” he whispered into the dark room. His twin must have turned off the lights due to sensitivity. He heard a barely audible groan from the last stall and followed it, ignoring the growing nausea he felt. Spike tried the door on the stall and found it locked.

“Chase, will you open the door for us, please?” Adam asked quietly.

“C-can’t,” Chase groaned. “Feel s-sick.”

“Okay.” Spike used his molecular kinesis to unlock the door and found his twin knelt in front of the toilet, head resting on the seat.

“I wanna go home, Spike,” Chase whined. That was the moment Spike knew his twin was beyond sick. Normally, Chase never whined and he would never rest his head against a toilet seat without bleaching it first, claiming that there were over thousands of germs on the average toilet seat. Spike ran his hands through Chase’s dark brown hair and pulled the boy’s head to his chest.

“Okay,” he whispered before turning to Adam. “Call Mr. Davenport, will ya?” Adam nodded and stepped out of the bathroom to call their father. Spike carded his fingers through his brother’s hair over and over, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

“My head hurts,” Chase groaned. “And my stomach.”

“I know. Mr. Davenport’s on his way. You’ll be okay,” Spike soothed. He pushed back Chase’s hair and felt his forehead. “100.2,” he muttered to himself.

“Hmm?” Chase asked.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Spike lied. A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened, casting light in that made Chase wince. Spike covered his twin’s eyes before the door closed, cutting off the light.

“Spike? Chase?” Mr. Davenport called.

“Shhh,” Spike hissed.

“Sorry.” The man lowered his voice. Spike was still covering Chase’s eyes and had taken to rocking the boy back and forth gently.

“We need to get him home, but he’s too sensitive to light right now,” Spike whispered.

“Adam told me. I brought the light blocking sunglasses I’ve been developing since the last time your senses glitched,” Mr. Davenport explained, showing his son the invention. Spike shuddered at the memory; that was an awful week.

“Okay. Hey, Chase.” The boy looked up. “I’m gonna move my hands and Mr. Davenport’s gonna give you some sunglasses so we can go home, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Chase whimpered. Spike slowly uncovered his twin’s eyes and Mr. Davenport slipped the sunglasses onto his son’s face.

“I can’t see anything,” Chase whined.

“Shh. It’s okay. You’ll be okay. We’re gonna be home in a little bit,” Spike carefully lifted his brother and carried him out to Mr. Davenport’s car, laying him in the back and getting into the front seat himself.

“Spike,” Mr. Davenport started.

“I’m not leaving him,” Spike answered, not leaving any room for argument as he buckled himself in.

“Alright.” Mr. Davenport started the car and drove them home, making sure Chase was alright. When they arrived back at the house, Spike gently carried his twin up to their bedroom, it was in the middle of the three rooms which served useful whenever one of them had friends over, as explaining why they slept standing up in glass tubes was a bit disconcerting. If not already obvious, Bree used her room the most. Spike tried to lay Chase down under the covers, but his twin wouldn’t let him go.

“Chase,” Spike started.

“No. Don’t leave me,” the other whined, tightening his hold around his brother’s neck.

“Chase, I’m not going anywhere,” Spike assured, bringing over a chair with his molecular kinesis. “But you gotta let me go.” Chase gave a low whine, but let go of Spike nonetheless. Spike sat down in the chair, running a hand through his twin’s hair smoothly.

“Spike, I’m cold,” Chase whimpered after a while. Spike nodded and pulled the covers up over his twin, tucking him in.

“Get some sleep,” he instructed. Chase nodded, turning onto his side and closing his eyes. After a moment, soft snores escaped his lips and Spike relaxed into his chair a little.

***

Spike shook his brother’s shoulder.

“Chase, wake up,” he whispered.

“No. Sleeping,” Chase groaned in protest, shoving his twin's hand away.

“Chase, c’mon. You need to take some medicine,” Spike implored, poking his twin again.

“Spikey, no. Chasey sleeping. No medicine. I’ll just throw it back up,” Chase whimpered. Half of Spike wanted to strangle his twin and the other half wanted to just wrap him up in a hug and never let go.

“But it’ll make you feel better,” Spike bribed. “Just sit up for a little bit, Chase.” Chase whined again, but sat up. Even though Spike had closed the blinds over a half hour ago, he was still wearing the sunglasses given to him by Mr. Davenport.

“Fine.” Spike held the little cup up to his brother’s lips and tipped it forward, letting Chase drink the liquid. Chase coughed at the taste and Spike rubbed his back and gave him a drink of water when the fit subsided. After a few minutes, Mr. Davenport poked his head into the room.

“Spike, can I talk to you?” he asked in a whisper. Spike nodded, standing up and following his father out of the room.

“What’s up?”

“I called his math teacher and he said that Chase just ran out in the middle of class,” Mr. Davenport explained.

“Was it around 9:45?” Spike asked.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“ ‘Cause that’s exactly the time I felt sick. That’s how I knew where he was.”

“Is he doing any better?” Donald asked.

“No. When we left, his fever was 100.2 and he’d thrown up at least twice. He’s super clingy and out of it and I had to coax him into taking medicine, but he should be fine,” Spike relayed.

“SPIKE!” Chase cried out and Spike couldn’t bite back the groan.

“Did I mention clingy?” He opened the door and saw Chase sitting up, a hand clapped over his mouth desperately. “Shit,” Spike muttered before sending the trash can over to his twin with his molecular kinesis just in time. Chase vomited into the vessel, looking extremely pale. Spike hurried over to his twin, rubbing the other’s back. When Chase finished, he set the trash can on the ground by his bed.

“Spike, I feel awful,” he groaned.

“I know. But vomiting means you’re getting better,” Spike assured.

“It doesn’t feel like I’m getting better.”

“You are, Chase. Your body is just removing the toxins.”

“Are you sure?”

“Get some sleep.” Spike gently pushed his twin back down onto the bed, tucking him back in. He went over to his own bed and picked up a book he was supposed to read for class. If he wasn’t in school, he might as well not fail, right? Not that he cared anyway, but still.

***

Spike heard a groan and looked over. He had been so hyper focused on his book that he’d completely lost track of time and space. It was a good book, alright?

“Chase?” Spike asked. No response. Spike looked over to see his twin tossing and turning in his sleep, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. Spike felt the boy’s temperature and immediately called for their father. Mr. Davenport was in the room in a second.

“What’s wrong?” he panted out.

“105.2,” Spike answered, cradling his brother and rocking him slowly back and forth.

“Okay. We’ve got to get him to the hospital.” Spike nodded and gently carried his brother to the car. At the hospital, doctors and nurses quickly rushed Chase into a room to reduce his fever.

***

“Davenport?” a doctor asked into the waiting room. Spike and Donald stood up.

“How is he?”

“He’s fine. Stable now; we got his fever down with a few antibiotics and some fluids. You can see him now.” He led the two down the hall to Chase’s room, where the boy was hooked up to an IV.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted.

“How ya feeling, bud?” Donald asked.

“Still nauseous and tired, but a lot better,” Chase confirmed.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Spike muttered.

“Spike,” Chase started.

“Don’t mention it. What are brothers for?” Spike dismissed. Within a week, Chase was back to his usual, nerdy self; laughing and joking with his siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it’s up to standards! Please request others!


	3. In Which Spike Helps Chase

Spike had woken up to use the bathroom and as he was getting back, he heard a sniffle from upstairs. Upon looking, Spike realized that the capsule next to Bree’s was empty. He sighed heavily and decided to go check on his brother. When the elevator dinged, Spike found the person he was looking for.

Chase was staring at the blank television screen when he heard the elevator open. He winced at the sound; everything was so much louder in the night and especially when his self-deprecation kicked in.

“Chase?” Spike’s voice broke the silence, making Chase cringe and bite the inside of his bottom lip as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Shh!” he hissed. Chase felt the couch dip a few seconds later and knew his brother had sat down. They stayed silent for a while.

“You wanna talk about it?” Spike asked after a while.

“No,” Chase grumbled.

“Well then, why don’t we just go to sleep, then?” Spike suggested. “We have school tomorrow.”

“I’m not going.”

“To school? Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to,” Chase snapped.

“Chase,” Spike started.

“I mean, I don’t need to go to school, right? What’s the fucking point?” Chase yelled. Spike held up his hands in an attempt to calm his brother.

“You’re right, and I get it, but please don’t wake anyone up. We all need to sleep. Even you,” he whispered.

“Then why don’t you just leave me alone?” Chase spat, voice low. “Go back to sleep if you need it that much.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you don’t want to go back to school,” Spike replied defiantly. “You love school.” Chase pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in the fabric of his pajamas.

“I love _learning_ ,” he mumbled. “School sucks.”

“Why?”

“Because they hate me.”

“They don’t hate you, Chase,” Spike tried.

“Oh, bullshit, Spike. They hate me and you know it. The only reason people talk to me is because they think I’m you,” Chase snapped.

“That’s not the only reason, I’m sure.”

“Other than that, it’s just to copy last night’s homework or get some help on a math problem.”

“That’s kind of like friendship,” Spike put out. Chase just scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“That’s not friendship, Spike. That’s just them using me,” he shot, looking at his twin for a moment.

“You’re cool, Chase. People like you.”

“I’m cool by _association_ , Spike. People like _you_. I’m just your annoying younger brother, which, by the way, I’m two minutes older. I am the smartest man on Earth and I’m used to help people cheat on tests,” Chase rambled into the universe before burying his head back into his pants. “No one likes me.”

“Maybe if you showed them some other talents,” Spike suggested.

“What other talents? Finding the square root of any number? Perfecting cold fusion? Knowing the first ten million digits of pi? Those aren’t talents, Spike. Those are things that get you dumped into the trash can!” Chase countered.

“Have you been dumped in the trash can?” Spike asked, brow furrowed.

“Dumped in the trash, shoved in lockers, punched, pushed over. You name it, it’s been done to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t need you to protect me! I don’t need your pitying looks or babying!” Chase fumed. “Besides, you guys think I’m useless anyway. It’ll just prove you right.”

“We don’t think you’re useless, Chase,” Spike stated, confused as to why his twin would think such a thing.

“Don’t even try to lie to me. You guys said it yourself. ‘Speed and strength make a good team’.” Chase sniffed and Spike could practically feel the tears running down his brother’s face.

“You’re right. We did say that. I didn’t know that you took it to heart, Chase. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Without you; without the smarts, we would just be stumbling around trying to figure out what to do. I know that and I’m pretty sure Adam and Bree know it, too. You’ve been our mission leader for four years and I wouldn’t change it for the world,” Spike assured his brother, no, his twin. “Now, c’mon. If I have to go to school tomorrow, then so do you.” He nudged the other’s shoulder and the two stood up and headed back to their capsules.

***

“Alright, class. We’re going to be studying various elements. Can anyone tell me what this is?” Mr. Burgen, the science teacher held up a vial of dark yellowish liquid. Spike, along with everyone else, looked at Chase. He just sighed heavily and put his head on his folded arms. Spike sighed.

“I’m gonna regret this,” he muttered to himself before raising his hand.

“Yes, Spike, you may use the restroom,” Mr. Burgen sighed, used to Spike’s antics.

“Actually, sir. I know the answer.” The teacher’s eyebrows raised. “That’s chlorine and I’m not quite sure why you have that, because in its gas state it is extremely deadly. In fact, it was first used in April of 1915 by German soldiers against French soldiers. In its liquid state it’s quite useful for cleansing purposes. However, I wouldn’t recommend pouring it on your skin,” Spike relayed.

“Alright. Do you know more about the element?” Mr. Burgen tested. Spike sighed again, mentally cursing himself for having a conscience.

“Well, the atomic number is 17, it has a mass of 35.453 molar grams, it’s melting point is -101°C and the boiling point is -34.6°C. It has four isotopes, and was discovered by Carl Wilhelm Scheele in 1774,” Spike answered.

“Very good, Spike. Maybe now you’ll be as good of a student as Chase. Keep up the good work,” Mr. Burgen praised.

“Don’t count on it, sir.”

***

After school, Chase caught Spike’s arm.

“Thank you.”

“For science? Took you long enough,” Spike joked.

“Not only that, but a few people have come up to me asking to hang out without asking for homework help,” Chase explained. “When I asked them why, they said someone told them I was cool. So, thanks.”

“That wasn’t me. It was Adam,” Spike replied. Just then, Adam, Bree, and Leo walked up.

“How’s it going?” Adam asked nonchalantly. Chase smiled and hugged him briefly.

“Thank you both.”

“What are brothers for?” Adam and Spike replied together.


	4. Bionic flu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase is sick

 

“Alright, Adam take the head on fight. Bree, take the back and surprise attack him. Chase and Spike, you take the sides and help the hostages out. Use your force fields,” Donald instructed. His oldest followed the instructions they were given, but the two younger boys appeared to be distracted.

”Spike, I’m fine,” Chase protested in a low whisper.

”Oh, bullshit,” Spike replied gruffly; not particularly trying to keep his voice low.

”You guys,” Mr. Davenport tried; to no avail.

”Spike, keep your voice down!” Chase hissed. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you.”

”Well, you’re damn lucky I haven’t said anything to anyone else.” Spike”s voice was slightly quieter but still with the same inflection as before.

”Spike, Chase!” Adam yelled. Still the twins continued arguing.

”You don’t understand, Spike,” Chase started, even quieter than previously.

”I understand plenty, Chase. You-“ Spike was cut off by Bree rushing over and smacking both in the back of the head.

”Ow! What the heck was that for?” Chase asked, rubbing his head.

”Thank to you two idiots, our hostages are dead!” Bree exclaimed, bringing her younger brothers back to reality. They scratched the backs of their necks awkwardly.

”Oh. Sorry,” they mumbled. Mr. Davenport sighed heavily.

”It’s alright,” he replied. “Adam, Bree, why don’t you guys go get into your capsules and change. I want to talk to your brothers privately.”

”But,” Adam started. Bree pulled her older brother out of the area.

”Mr. Davenport, we’re sorry,” Chase mumbled, always one to hate getting in trouble.

”Speak for yourself. I stand by what I said,” Spike countered.

”I’m not mad. I just want to know what you’re arguing about.”

”Well,” Chase started.

”Chase is sick!” Spike blurted out.

”Spike! You promised you wouldn’t tell!” Chase exclaimed.

”Yeah, well you obviously weren’t going to say anything!” Spike defended.

”It’s not even that bad! I’m fine!” Chase protested.

”Boys, knock it off!” Donald scolded. “Chase why didn’t you say you’re getting sick?”

”Because it’s not that bad,” Chase reiterated. “I mean, I feel fi- ah...ah...ACHOO!” Spike had moved behind his twin in anticipation of the glitch, leaving only Mr. Davenport in the line of fire.

”Cool! Snot canons are back!” Adam cheered.

”You think it’s funny now, but he did that three times to me last night. I had to change clothes so much,” Spike voiced. Donald was staring in disgust at the snot covering him and half of the lab.

”I’m sorry, Mr. Davenport,” Chase lamented, sniffing softly.

”It’s alright, Chase,” Donald consoled. “I’m gonna take a shower, Spike, get your brother up to your room; Adam, Bree, please clean this up.” Everyone set off to their tasks. Surprisingly, Adam and Bree’s was the easiest, as Davenport had set up a self-clean mode for cases like this.

”Spike, I’m fine,” Chase protested for what felt like the millionth time as Spike brought him different clothes.

”Shut it and put these on,” Spike growled, tossing the pajamas to his twin. If Chase was a normal teen and didn’t have vocal recognition, he wouldn’t have heard the slight quiver in Spike’s voice. But he wasn’t a normal teen and he did have vocal recognition and he did hear the quiver in his twin’s voice as he pulled the shirt over his head.

”Spike, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,” Chase assured, fully expecting his brother to snap at him. Instead, Spike sat in the chair next to the bed, putting his head in his hands.

”Chase, I wish you weren’t so calm about this!” he admitted.

”Why shouldn’t I be calm?” Chase asked, brow furrowed and confusion filling his hazel eyes. Spike looked up, tears brimming in his own hazel eyes.

”Because infections for you aren’t the same!” he shouted. Chase looked shocked for a moment before regaining his senses.

”Is this because of my asthma?” he asked. Spike just nodded. “Spike, I’m fine. You think I haven’t been used to the constant sickness I get? You think that I don’t wish the man who created our chips could find a way to cure me? And you?”

”Chase...” Spike started.

”No. I hate being sick. I hate being babied, but I’m used to it. Used to not being able to take a decent breath. Used to the looks you give me when I wheeze or catch a cold. I stay calm because freaking out will only freak you out. You don’t need that, so I’m sorry, but I’m used to the sickness,” Chase explained. Soon, there was a knock on the door. Spike climbed out of the bed, clearing his face of tears.

”Come in!” Chase called. The door opened and Donald walked in to check on his son.

”Open wide,” he instructed, placing a thermometer under Chase’s tongue when the boy complied.

”What does it say?” Spike asked when the machine beeped.

”101.2,” Donald told him.

”Only a slight fever, I’m fine.” Chase started to get up but Spike shoved him back down.

”Get up again and I will staple you to the bed,” the latter twin threatened. Chase gulped.

”Spike, please don’t threaten your brother. Chase, I’m gonna grab you some medicine.” With that, Donald left. Chase picked up one of his books and Spike sat down on his own bed, playing a game on his phone. After a little while, Chase looked up, feeling a slight tingle in his stomach.

”Spike.”

”Hmm?”

”I don’t feel good,” Chase groaned.

”Shit.” Spike rushed over to his twin and gently pulled the other out of bed and led him to the bathroom. Chase vomited into the toilet, barely making it in time.

”I’m sorry,” he groaned.

”It’s alright,” Spike appeased, rubbing his twin’s back. “Do you feel any better?”

”A little,” Chase replied, using the toilet to help himself stand up. He flushed the toilet and washed his hands, splashing water on his face and gargling with some before stumbling from the bathroom. Spike followed behind ans they returned to their room, where Mr. Davenport was waiting.

”What happened?” he asked upon seeing the paleness of Chase’s face.

”I threw up,” Chase explained. “I guess I’m more sick than I thought.” Spike gave him a “no shit” look, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he just continued his game.

”Alright, take this.” Donald handed his son the medicine and a water bottle. Chase downed the former of those, gagging at the taste. He then chugged the contents of the water bottle.

”Slow down, Chase. You’re gonna make yourself vomit again,” Spike scolded slightly, barely looking up from his phone. Instead of biting back, Chase just set the now half empty bottle on the bedside table.

”Sorry.” Spike just waved it away.

”Don’t mention it,” he dimissed. “I just don’t want to keep taking you to the bathroom.” It was selfish, really, but hey, at least he’s honest. Chase rolled his eyes.

”Ha. Ha,” he replied dryly before breaking into a coughing fit. Every fifteen or so coughs he got half a decent breath. After a minute, Spike realized his twin wasn’t breathing well and rushed over to rub the other’s back.

”Chase, breathe. In and out. Just like me,” Spike coached. Chase tried his best to follow his brother’s instructions and soon his cough subsided but his breathing was still ragged.

”Spike...my...in...haler,” Chase gasped through breaths. Spike used molecular kinesis to bring Chase’s inhaler over from the dresser. Why it was over there was beyond him, but he had  bigger matters to deal with. He shook the inhaler, placed it to his brother’s lips and pressed the top, allowing Chase to inhale the medicine and breathe properly. After a little bit, Chase’s breathing returned to normal and Spike put the inhaler on the bedside table.

”Better?” Spike asked. Chase nodded, but when Spike moved to leave, Chase caught the other’s arm.

”Stay?” he pleaded. Spike nodded and climbed into bed with his twin and Chase cuddled up to him. Spike sighed, but let the boy stay, carding his fingers through the boy’s brown hair.

”Get some rest,” he soothed. Chase nodded and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

***

It was nearly an hour later that Spike awoke to someone shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Chase, a wild look in his eyes and a hand clapped over his mouth. Spike, finding no other option, brought over a trash can with his molecular kinesis(why was everything so far?) and held it under his brother’s chin just as Chase couldn’t hold it in anymore. He vomited and Spike looked away, feeling queasy.

”Thank you,” Chase groaned out, putting down the trash can. Spike brought over a box of tissues and used one to wipe his twin’s mouth.

”Don’t mention it,” he grunted. Then, as an after thought, added, “I love you.” Chase smiled, settling back into his twin’s arms.

”I love you, too.” With that, the two boys fell back into a comfortable rest.

***

Donald walked into his sons’ room to give Chase more medicine only to find both boys asleep. He snapped a few pictures, which he knew he’d have to delete later, and shook Chase’s shoulder.

”M-Mr. Davenport?” the boy asked groggily. “What are you doing here?” The tired look in his son’s hazel eyes almost made Donald forget why he was there in the first place. Almost.

”It’s time for more medicine,” Donald replied, holding up the little cup. Chase grimaced, turning away.

”It tastes gross,” he whimpered.

”I know, but I added a bit of vanilla and a teaspoon of sugar to it,” Donald reassured. Chase shrugged, downing the contents of the cup.

”It tastes okay,” he replied.

”Good. I’ll be back in a few hours to give you more. Get some sleep.” With that, Donald left, allowing his youngest to get some sleep

***

Spike woke to Chase tossing and turning beside him. The boy’s face was pale and sweaty. Spike pressed a hand to his twin’s forehead and almost immediately pulled it back. The other boy was burning up.

”Mr. Davenport!” he yelled. Seconds later, aforementioned man rushed into the room.

”What’s wrong?”

”He’s worse,” Spike replied, concern echoing in his voice. Donald took the boy’s temperature.

”104.9. We need to take him to the hospital,” Mr. Davenport worried, picking up his youngest, biological-ish son and carried him to the car. Spike followed closely, worried about his other half.

”Where are you going? What’s wrong with Chase?” Bree asked, standing up from the couch with Adam.

”His fever is too high. We’re going to the hospital,” Donald explained.

”We’re coming, too,” both said at the same time.

”Alright. Just hurry.” All of them hurried out to the car and drove to Mission Creek General Hospital. The doctors there took Chase away with Spike trying to follow after them.

”No! You can’t take him!” he yelled. Adam held him back. “Let me go! Let me go! I have to be with him!” Spike slowly calmed down until he was sobbing into Adam’s chest.

”It’s okay, Spike,” Adam soothed, rubbing his little brother’s back, sinking into a chair.

”I’m supposed to be with him. I supposed to protect him,” Spike whimpered. “I’m supposed to be his brother.”

”It’s okay. You can still be his brother. He just needs a little help that we can’t give him. We’ll be right here when they’re done,” Adam consoled. He cradled his little brother and Bree rubbed his shoulder.

”They’re gonna make him all better, I promise,” she whispered soothingly. Spike just nodded, crawling out of his brother’s lap and into his own chair in between his siblings. The Davenport family waited and waited for information on the condition of their youngest member. An awful three hours later and the right doctor finally came out.

”Davenport?” he asked. Spike was the first over to him, concerned about his twin.

”Is Chase okay?” he asked.

”Your brother will be fine. We gave him some antibiotics and ran a few tests. His fever has gone down significantly.”

”What made his fever go up?” Mr. Davenport asked.

”Pneumonia. Unfortunately, there’s been a rise in pneumonia diagnoses in people with asthma lately. It’s a particularly nasty strand, but fortunately, Chase is a fighter. He’ll be okay in hopefully under a week,” the doctor explained.

”Can we see him?” Bree asked.

”Only one person at a time.” They all exchanged looks and gave Spike a nudge forward. The boy followed the doctor to his brother. He timidly pushed open the door. It was a sight Spike had seen at least three other times; the first of which was when he was barely a year old and the latest only four months ago. Chase was lying in the hospital bed with wires and an IV hooked to him; an oxygyn mask on his face. His breathing was irregular and the heartrate moniter beeped out an uncomfortably uneven rhythm. Spike sat down in the chair next to where his twin lay, carefully grabbing the other’s hand. The doctor closed the door, stepping out.

”Chase, please wake up. Tell me you’re okay. The doctor said you’ll be fine, but I’m still scared.” Spike couldn’t stop the escaping tears. “As usual, you’re right. I’m freaked out; scared shitless. I need you. Need you to yell at me when I curse, to help me with my homework, to calm me down when I have my injections. Hell, even to give me a reason to beat the shit out of Trent. You’re gonna be okay and be the smartest, most successful person in the universe. You’re gonna colonize Mars and find a new planet that you’re gonna name something stupid and scientific. I know it. But you’ve got to wake up,” Spike rambled, hoping the sound of his voice could wake up Chase. Chase told him some statistic about this that he couldn’t remember now. Chase let out a light groan and shifted a little. Spike found hope until his twin settled, showing no sign of waking.

***

Spike stayed with his brother day and night; only leaving when it was absolutely necessary.

”Spike, sweetie, you need to rest. You’ve got to take care of yourself,” Tasha implored, hand on her stepson’s shoulder.

”What about Chase? Who’s gonna take care of him?” Spike countered.

”The doctors will,” Tasha answered.

”They can’t,” Spike told her. “They don’t know what he likes. They don’t know how to protect him. I do.” He was right; in the last few days, Spike had brought in all of his twin’s favorite things: books, math problems, even pizza. Nothing had done more than just make Chase groan and shift.

”I know. You’ve done such a good job so far, but what Chase really needs is for you to take care of you, too, sweetheart. You haven’t eaten properly since you got here. I’ll stay with Chase while you take a day off,” Tasha suggested, fully prepared for Spike to snap at her. She was thoroughly surprised when he just nodded.

”Okay. Just keep a good eye on him.” Tasha nodded, taking Spike’s place when the boy stood up.

”Donald can take you home, sweetie.” Spike nodded and headed out of the room to find his father waiting.

”C’mon, kiddo.” Donald wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders and led him out.

***

Spike walked down the stairs, clean and refreshed from his shower to see everyone on the couch, looking nervous.

”What’s wrong?”

”The hospital just called,” Bree stated. “Chase just woke up.”

”Then what the hell are we still doing here?” Spike growled. “Let’s go!” Everyone rushed to the car and drove to the hospital. Spike ran ahead to his twin’s room. Chase was sitting up and Tasha was rubbing his back soothingly.

”Hey, Spike,” the boy greeted.

” ‘Hey, Spike’? I stay with you for three fucking days and all I get is a ‘hey, Spike’?” Spike fumed, but he couldn’t keep the tears from his eyes. Tasha silently excused herself and left the twins alone.

”Spike, it’s okay. I’m okay,” Chase assured. Spike frantically wiped at his tears. Chase opened his arms and Spike tumbled into his brother’s side. Chase groaned a little, but encased his twin in a hug.

”You’re such a dumbass,” Spike whispered into Chase’s shoulder. “The minute I leave, you wake up. I hate you.”

”You love me,” Chase countered.

”I waited for you to wake up for three days,” Spike told his brother.

”The longest you’ve waited since birth,” Chase joked.

”Haha.”

***

As soon as possible, Chase was released from the hospital. When they got back to the house, Chase pulled his twin aside.

”Hey, Spike, I just wanna thank you for staying with me while I was sick,” he whispered. Spike just shrugged.

”What are brothers for?” As they headed upstairs, Spike let out an awful sneeze. Chase wrapped an arm around his twin’s shoulders

“I’ll get the medicine,” he said with a smirk.

”Oh, shut up,” Spike growled, shoving his brother away.


	5. The Terrible Two-Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Per suggestion, I have split up an entire fic into shorter chapters to post here. Basically Chase and Spike turn into children. Have fun!

The Lab Rats were fighting an evil scientist whose lab looked suspiciously like Mr. Davenport’s lab.

”While this has been fun, I’ll see you kiddos later,” the scientist yelled, pulling out a weapon that looked suspiciously like a cross between a bubble gun and a laser gun.

“What are you going to do? Laser-bubble us to death?” Spike taunted. The scientist just smiled.

”Guess you children will find out,” he cackled menacingly. Suddenly, everything slowed down and a few things happened at once. The scientist fired the weapon, Adam and Bree ducked, and Spike and Chase both put up their force fields; Spike to protect his siblings from the oncoming peril and Chase to protect them from behind in case the beam bounced off one of the glass surfaces. Time sped back up and the laser his Spike’s force field and went right through, hitting the teen behind it. The dual force fields connected and turned red before dissolving. The twins originally holding the protective shields swayed and passed out.

"Spike!" Adam yelled, rushing to his brother.

"Chase!" Bree rushed to her other brother. The evil scientist laughed, walking away.

"Have fun with your _baby_ brothers," he chuckled. Bree frowned after him before turning to Adam.

"I'll run Chase home and come back for you and Spike," she told him before taking off with her baby brother.

***

After checking up on the twins and putting them into their capsules, Mr. Davenport got the story from his other two children.

"And the force fields turned red and collapsed and so did they," Bree finished.

"Interesting," Donald mused.

"Mr. Davenport, I'm confused. Chase didn't get hit, but he passed out. How?" Adam asked with a frown.

"Well, I think because they're exactly identical and they were using their force fields, it affected them both," Mr. Davenport replied.

"So, they're hurt because they protected us?" Bree asked, tears welling in her eyes.

"Sweetheart, none of this is either of your faults. Chase and Spike protected you two and I'm proud of them. But you can't blame yourselves for being heroes and human beings," Donald consoled.

"But what's gonna happen to them?" Before Donald could answer the question, a cry was heard from the other room. Bree was the first over there, using her super speed to check on her little brothers.

"Mr. Davenport," Bree cautioned as her father and brother came over. "I think I know what that guy meant when he said 'have fun with your baby brothers'." Standing next to her, the two males saw what she was talking about. Two little boys, no older than three, were both sitting on the floor. One was crying his eyes out and the other, who looked uncannily like the first, was pouting, tears brimming in his hazel eyes.

"Are they...?" Adam started.

"I don't know." Donald knelt next to the crying boy, who was holding his upper arm with his left hand and wiping at his nose with his right.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Donald asked.

"Spikey pinched me!" the boy cried, pointing at the other, who had his back to them and was trying to conceal his tears.

"Can I see?" "Chase" nodded and let go of his arm, showing Donald the red welt on his forearm.

"It hurts, Mr. Davenport," the boy whimpered

"Bree, grab the first aid kit for me, please?" Donald requested. Bree complied, speeding over to grab what her father asked for.

"BeeBee's fast," the little boy whispered as Donald put neosporin and a bandaid on his injury.

"What?" the billionaire asked.

"BeeBee's fast, Adee's strong, Spikey's angry and I'm smart," the child repeated.

"You remember?" A nod. "What else do you remember?"

"I 'emember everything," the mini-Chase answered. "We were fighting the evil guy and he was gonna hurt Adee and BeeBee so Spikey and I protected them. Then I woke up here and Spikey pinched me."

"Why'd he do that?" Donald questioned, hoping to get more answers out of the toddler.

" 'Ecause I was cryin' 'cause I didn't know where you were."

"Well, I'm here now," Donald assured, wiping his son's tears and pulling the boy into his lap. Chase snuggled into his father's chest. After a moment, he looked up.

"Mr. Davenport?"

"Hmm?"

"I wanna 'pologize to Spike."

"For what?" Donald asked.

"I made him cwy," Chase answered. "I called him a meanie and he looked sad."

"Oh. That's very nice of you." Donald let the boy go and Chase crawled over to his twin. Spike turned away, crossing his arms.

"I don' wanna talk to you," he grumbled. Chase moved to look his twin in the eyes.

"But I'm sowwy that I called you a meanie," he explained. "I didn' mean to make you cwy." Spike wiped his tears.

"I'm not cwying," he protested. "But I'm sowwy I pinched you."

"It's okay. Mr. Davenport gave me a cool superhero bandaid."

"That's cool. Awe we cool?" Spike asked.

"The coolest," Chase answered, wrapping his arms around the other. Donald smiled, feeling his heart practically melt with the cuteness. Bree cooed and Adam smiled. The young boys yawned and Donald scooted over to them.

"Alright, you two. Nap time," he told them. They nodded and got into their capsules, pressing one hand to the glass. Where they were touching glowed red while Chase had a baby blue aura and Spike had a sapphire blue aura.

"I'm gonna make some lunch," Bree stated before going upstairs to fulfill her promise.

"We should probably let them sleep," Donald suggested, tapping Adam's shoulder and heading to catch the elevator. "Eddy, keep and eye on the boys, please."

"You got it, Donny!" the home system replied.


	6. The Terrible Two-Part Two

As Adam, Bree, and Donald were eating lunch, the elevator dinged.

”Spikey, we’re not supposed to be up here,” Chase whispered hesitantly. He was clinging to his twin’s arm, halfway hidden behind the other.

”Relax, Chasey. We’re just gonna get somefin’ to eat,” Spike replied, shaking his brother off. Chase stayed close to Spike, taking tentative steps as he looked around at the familiar layout.

”Spikey, do you ‘emember this?” he asked.

”Of course not. We’ve never been up here,” Spike dismissed, walking toward the living room.

”But we’ve been here,” Chase protested. He indicated the couch. “That’s whewe we pway video games with Adee.”

”Don’ be siwwy. Mr. Davenport wouldn’ wet us pway up hewe.”

”But I saw us. Like older us. The same age as Adee and BeeBee now,” Chase explained, forgetting his anxiety.

”Maybe you have future vision,” Spike replied aimlessly. “Where’s the kitchen here?” Chase was going to protest when a voice interrupted him.

”Chase, Spike, what are you two doing?” Mr. Davenport asked. Chase yelped, hiding behind his twin and the other turned to their father.

”N-nofin’,” Chase stuttered. Spike scoffed at his twin.

”We were just looking for somefin’ to eat. We’re hungwy,” he said matter-of-factly.

”Spike! We’re weally sowwy, Mr. Davenport. Please don’ be mad at us.” Chase was on the verge of tears, visibly shaking from behind his twin. Donald knelt down.

”Come here,” he instructed and both boys crept hesitantly to him. “I’m not mad. You’re allowed upstairs”

”Told you!”

”I didn’ know!”

”It’s okay. You know now. Bree made lunch,” Donald chimed, breaking up the most certain argument before it even began.

”Lunch?” the boys asked in unison, hazel eye brightening. Donald laughed, scooping up his sons and taking them into the dining room. As they were eating, Spike realized something.

”Mr. Davenport?”

”Hmm?”

”How come Adee and BeeBee awe big and Chasey has future vision?” Spike asked.

”Future vision? What do you mean, Spike?” Donald set down his magazine.

”Chasey said he ‘emembered Adee, him, and me pwayin’ video games, but Chasey and I were as old as Adee now,” Spike explained.

”Well, Chase is right,” Donald told the boy, trying to explain Chase’s “vision”.

”So, he does have future vision?”

”Well, not exactly. You know how you guys have super...special abilities?” A nod. “Well, one of Chase’s abilities is super memory. He remembers everything he sees, feels, smells, tastes, and hears. So what he told you has actually happened.”

”Ohh. But why are we still small? Do you ‘emember, Chasey?”

”All I ‘member is an evil man shot you with a weird gun and when I woke we were three again,” Chase piped, putting down his peanut butter sandwich. Donald paused. He was always in awe of Chase’s incredible brain. Even without his chip, he had more knowledge than the average seventeen year old.

”That’s true, Mr. Davenport?” Spike asked, snapping Donald out of his trance.

”Yes, it is. You all; you, Chase, Adam, and Bree, are seventeen. You use your super...abilities to protect the world. This time, you were fighting a really bad scientist and he pointed his new invention at you all and you and Chase used your force fields to shield your siblings,” Donald explained.

”But if we had force fields, how are we like this? How did he shoot me? Did he shoot Chase?” Spike rambled.

”His beam went through your force field, Spike. He didn’t shoot Chase, but I think because you two are so, er, linkied, hat the laser affected you both,” Donald told the boy.

”Oh. How long will it last?”

”I don’t know. I’m having Adam and Bree look for the laser so I can hopefully reverse engineer it and undo its effects.”

”Shouldn’t we go to school?” Chase whispered timidly. Donald frowned; he sounded so much more mature than he had two minutes ago.

”What?”

”Well, you and Tasha have work and Adam, Bree, and Leo have school. Where would we go?” Chase furthered. He sounded like his seventeen year old self, but he still looked three.

”Who’s Weo?” Spike asked. As if speaking a name into the universe suddenly made that person appear, the door opened and Leo strutted into the house.

”Big D! Adam, Bree, Chase, Spike! I’m home!” he called, walking into the dining room and dropping his bag uncerimoniously in the archway.

”That’s Leo,” Chase said, indicating the other, now older, boy. “He’s Mr. Davenport’s step-son.” Spike nodded in understanding.

”Who are the kids?” Leo asked, looking between Chase and Spike and his step-father. “Is there somethign I need to know about, Big D?” He smiled in a joking manner.

”Weo, it’s us,” Chase chimed, sounding young again. “Spike and Chase. We wewe turned into toddlers by a weally bad guy.”

”How?” Leo asked, shocked at the entire situation.

”I’ll explain when your mom gets back.,” Donald told him with a sigh. He wanted to lessen the amount of times he’d have to tell people what happened.

”Okay.” Leo sat down next to Spike and grabbed a sandwich. Suddenly, Chase’s eyes widened and his hands flew to his crotch.

”Mr. Davenport,” he whispered urgently. “I drank too much juice. I needa go potty.” Donald nodded and quickly led his son to the bathroom down the hall, leaving Leo and Spike alone.

”Uh, do you need to go, er, potty, too?” Leo asked awkwardly. Spike just glared at him.

“I’d tell you if I do,” he snapped. Leo held up his hands and Chase and Mr. Davenport walked back into the room.

”I’m sowwy, Mr. Davenport,” the toddler lamented, climbing back into his seat.

”It’s alright, Chase. It was only an accident,” Mr. Davenport soothed, rubbing the boy’s back gently.

”What happened?” Leo asked.

”I got some on the fwoor,” Chase whimpered, sniffling.

”Chase, it’s really okay,” Mr. Davenport assured. “Accidents happen to everyone now and then.” Chase sniffled again.

”I’m still sowwy.”

”It’s really okay, Chase. It was nothing a bit of toilet paper couldn’t clean up.” The boy just nodded, still hanging his head.

”Where are Adam and Bree?” Leo asked. Again, the universe heard the names and Bree sped in, Adam holding onto her.

”We found traces of whatever experiment Doctor Evil was working on,” Bree explained, holding up a vial of red-ish liquid.

”Doctor Evil?” Leo questioned, raising an eyebrow.

”Adam decided we needed to call the guy who shot Spike something and that was the least idiotic of them all,” Bree told him.

”Wait, someone show Spike?” Leo exclaimed, looking at the three year old next to him. The boy just shrugged, sipping his juice.

”I said I’d explain later. For now, I’m gonna go see if I can reverse this serum.” Donald got up and Bree took his spot. Chase crawled into her lap, drinking from his sippy cup.

”Aw. Does Chasey love his big sissy?” Adam teased, though secretly he was jealous. He sat down on the other side of Spike.

”We’we the same age, Adee,” Chase argued.

”You do love me, right?” Bree asked, looking at her baby brother.

” ‘Couwse I wove you, BeeBee,” Chase assured. Bree smiled and ruffled her brother’s hair.

”Love you, too, Chase,” she told him. He smiled. Adam watched them, feeling very jealous. He felt someone tap his shoulder and looked to see Spike offering him a cheese cracker. Adam took it.

”Thanks, Spike.” Aforementioned boy crawled into his brother’s lap, mimicking his twin.

”Aw. Looks like it’s me and Chase and you and Spike, Adam,” Bree pointed out. Adam just smiled. It was kind of nice having twin brotehrs. Kind of.

**Author's Note:**

> I take requests, too! The next fic will be a request someone gave me.


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